Arizona Allspice (19 page)

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Anger Management

I am a bull.

Ringed.
Fuming.

A Devil of Tasmania.

Crazed.
Cauldron.

I am a snarling big cat,

Jungle king.

Gnashing.
Furious.

A hotheaded viper.

I conquered; brought down.

A
Davidian
defeat.

It is over, it is done,

Yet I haven’t any peace.

Always taut, on guard.

Defending.
Watch dog,

Loyal though mean.

What am I before her?

In the presence of my

Allspice Aphrodite,

What beast? Well,

I am, insufferably,

A fumbling platypus.

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I haven’t written in here in months. I’ve been busy with soccer and school and helping my friends. No luck with her, by the way. I’m still an idiot jock to her. I wish she would believe me when I say I’m interested in all that literary stuff too. I’d ask her mother to put in a good word, but I haven’t visited Miss
Marna
in a long time. It’s too difficult to watch things deteriorate. I saw my mother spiral down. I don’t need to see it again.

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She makes me feel like nothing about me is true. How does she do that? Make me question myself? She makes me see all the ugly things about me that I hate. I resent her for that sometimes. In the same breath I love her again. I said it. I think I love her or something close to that. I’m only seventeen so maybe it’s just admiration mixed with lust. She hardly talks to me, but when she does she builds me up and tears me down with one polite smile.

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I wrote a letter to Miss
Marna
, even though she lives a walk away and I could have asked her if she was okay in person. I just can’t be in the same room as her husband. That would be dangerous. She wrote back and told me she was proud of me for being so kind to her and the girls in town. I replied and asked why she wouldn’t let me help her like I help other people. She wrote back that I needed to understand Mr. Roberts was ill. I answered, “I know he’s a sick man.” Then she wrote back saying she wanted me to stop writing her because she didn’t want to raise her husband’s suspicions. Screw him. I only stopped writing because it’s what she wanted.

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Soccer isn’t a release for me anymore. I still get so angry. I feel like a child having a tantrum because he didn’t get the toy that he wanted. I keep getting into fights with the opposing team. My teammates are frustrated with me because our team is losing. My mom is sad that I won’t talk to her about what’s going on with me. Aphrodite knows I’m a mere mortal and is disgusted. I wonder sometimes why I care. Why do I care about her? Why do I care about helping all these girls that come to me with their problems? I can’t even help myself. What good am I then? I feel like a mummy, all wrapped up in strips of linen to hide the deadness inside.

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I’m done. I’m done. I’m done. I’m done. I’m done. I’m done. I’m done.

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I’ve been focusing on my team and my friends. I need to stop chasing a dream and live in reality. She doesn’t give a crap about me, she doesn’t know me, if she ever really knew me it would give her more reasons not to talk to me, she doesn’t need me to save her, she doesn’t want my friendship and she certainly doesn’t want to be repulsed by how I’ve had feelings for her for years.

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Lost a game.
Got so enraged my eyes welled up.
Got angry again for wanting to cry.
I guess I’m not done.

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It feels really good to help people. Maybe I’m too fixated with helping the girls in town, but I’m using my emptiness to make other people’s lives whole. I helped
Morghan
with her self-esteem, ran off Carol Anne’s abusive boyfriend, taught Marisol how to defend herself, went with Teresa to the doctor’s office, and I helped Elena, and Marissa, and Kara, and Leah, and Esperanza, Tia, Brittany and hopefully more. I love doing things for them. I would love to help some other people but I don’t do anything unless they want the help. That’s my rule. They have to give me permission.

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Cool sand sifted through my fingers

Rough stones press up on my heels

Tall grass whipping at my ankles

Owl calling in the starry night

Wind whispering against my ears

Chilled breeze strokes across my shoulders

Bright moon mirrored in my dark eyes

Wish that I could feel that bright and full

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I went to the homecoming dance with Danielle. She’s really sweet. We had a good time. She got a little drunk at the after party so I had to tuck her in early. It was a hotel party so I carried her to a bed and put the covers over her. She looks so innocent when she’s asleep. It
weirded
me out because she looked fourteen or something. I didn’t drink anything but my buddies did. I was surprised Mario got so wasted. I’ve never seen him drunk until last night. I saw Manny at the party. Denise was
chatting
him up. I hope he knows he’s being played and doesn’t take her advances seriously. I didn’t see his sister at the party. I didn’t see her at the dance.

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I’m six days into the summer before my senior year and I can’t relax because I’ve been hearing rumors about Raul and even though I know it’s impossible I still have this doubt in my mind and it’s ripping me up to imagine they could be true and she could be with him even though he’s the epitome of what she isn’t and who she isn’t and I have to get to the bottom of the stories I’m hearing before I go crazy.

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I went to the park office and borrowed a book from Miss
Marna
. I told her it would be the last book I would borrow from her because I know she doesn’t want to be bothered with me. She told me that wasn’t true. I picked out The Heart of Darkness from her bookshelf. She tells me I can keep the book if I want to. I thanked her. Then she said, “He makes her happy, Joey.” I asked, “What are you talking about?” She gives me a knowing look and then continues gingerly typing at her desk. “How’s your wrist?” I ask. She looked up at me shocked. “What are you talking about?” she asks, hiding her hands under her desk. I give her a knowing look and leave.

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 My senior year is almost half done. Mario and my teachers want to know what I plan to do after graduation. I asked them what they think I should study. They all think a while and say “How about something to do with sports?” They have to think a while because neither they nor I know anything I’m good at other than soccer. Except maybe my mom who thinks I’m a good poet but she’s smart enough not to suggest I try to make a living off of it. She thinks I could be a social worker, too. I don’t know. I heard Manny got a scholarship to a school in California and that Elaine is going to U of A. If I went to U of A then I would have to move to Tucson. The
PiCo
factory is an option too. It’s here in town, so I wouldn’t have to leave Mom behind.

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I went to the park office to return that book and I got into an argument with Miss
Marna
because she was lying to me. She kept telling me “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine” which is questioning my intelligence because her makeup is barely hiding the bruise on her neck. I was getting angrier, wondering why her kids weren’t protecting her from Mr. Roberts. Elaine is gone all the time with her prick of a boyfriend so I understand she might not notice but Manny has no excuse. He shouldn’t need me to tell him to man up and protect his sister and his own mother. I told her that and she started crying and telling me not to tell them anything and to blame the schizophrenia and not Mr. Roberts. I just left because I didn’t want to hear anymore of her excuses. She’s been leaving me notes, begging me not to say anything. I just ignore them.

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I took a bus out to Oaks Cemetery on Saturday. I wore my one white button down shirt and my black dress pants. I didn’t have a tie or dress shoes so I wore the cleanest pair of tennis shoes I had. I couldn’t get out of bed for the funeral last week, so I figured I could pay my respects with a visit to the place she was buried at. I hadn’t eaten anything so when I reached the entrance of the cemetery and threw up in some weeds the stomach acid stung my throat bad. I placed some roses by her headstone. I sat down cross-legged and told her I was so sorry and I cried because the words on her grave marker were true. She was an angel. And I was an angry demon that brought nothing but pain to her family. I promised her at the cemetery that I would keep silent and swore I would leave her family alone. All she ever wanted was to spare her children the truth. Now her kids know about their father in a profane way I never wanted for either of them. I did this to them.